


Lost in the sand

by morgansoul



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Tissaia has a road bar, Vanielle is a teacher, many things happen, not lineal timeline, time jumps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:00:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28629921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgansoul/pseuds/morgansoul
Summary: Vanielle ends up lost in the middle of the dessert. She had the perfect night and a great morning, but it all went to hell.
Relationships: Minor Rita/Philippa, Vanielle of Brugge/Tissaia de Vries, minor Francesca/Ida, minor Lytta/Sheala, minor Triss/Sabrina - Relationship
Comments: 36
Kudos: 13





	1. This I pray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IgnisFlos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IgnisFlos/gifts).



> It was supposed to be a short cute fluffy fic as birthday gift, but to nobody's surprise, it ran out of my hands and it will probably be a multichapter story with a high dose of angst, sorry.
> 
> Anyway, even if it's one day too late, happy birthday, Lucy! I hadn't forgotten and I told you I wanted a modern AU with Vanielle still alive, so I wanted to gift it to you. I just hope you like it.
> 
> Chapter tittles by Sappho's poems.

Everything had gone as wrong as it was possible. When had the situation come as out of control as it had to end that way? The morning had started perfectly. In fact, it had been one of the best Vanielle had ever spent in her entire life and could not regret anything that had happened. Until that moment when hell was unleashed, and every possible thing went completely wrong.

Vanielle stopped the car on the side of the road, making sure it was practically hidden just in case someone decided to go through a forsaken dessert road at midday. She had driven for so long and so immersed in the turbulent thoughts from which her mind could not escape, that she did not even know where she was or how she had got there. Her fingers were tense, stained red and her skin was pale and cold for she had been squeezing the steering wheel so hard she didn’t feel them at that point. The woman stopped the vehicle but left the keys on and came out of it, stumbling forward as if right hen the car was been on fire. Vanielle staggered forward and fell to her knees on the sand, letting her tears get lost on the orange ground, unable to keep her eyes open for a second longer. Her sight did not depart from the blood of her, now, trembling hands, so all she could do was close them. But when she did it, all she could see was Tissaia's terrified face as she looked at her, sank in panic and pain. Vanielle stood up after emptying the contents of her stomach and all the water her eyes could pour, and she began wandering the desert aimlessly. Why had she done it? How could she live with that?

* * *

Aretuza was the most famous road restaurant in the entire Thanedd Desert and the only thing separating Gors Velen from Novigrad, two major cities bordering that desert and an almost five hours drive away and into the nothingness from each other. The owner of the restaurant was a short woman, with brown hair and blue eyes, who rarely smiled, but who was able to take a person's breath away in a hundred different ways just by looking at them. The restaurant was not excessively large, but it did have enough space inside to own a bar —attached to the kitchen by an opening where some freshly cooked dishes rested—, several tables with chairs and armchairs, so that people could sit —with a fairly vintage air, dominated by colors such as teal and violet—, bathrooms, and what looked like a kitchen spacious enough to accommodate two or three people comfortly working inside.

Tissaia de Vries, owner of Aretuza, worked day and night on the restaurant and only rested occasionally —no one knew when, because as soon as they looked up, she was there; but she lived in the building behind the restaurant, so it wasn’t that weird, if yes that workaholic. Everyone knew it was best not to piss off the restaurant owner... Or at least everyone who had stepped foot on Aretuza at some point in their lives with someone kind enough to warn them not to do so, was clever enough not to do so. In fact, it was best not to address her at any time and try to speak with any of the waitresses, such as the young dark-skinned chestnut with adorable freckles, or the green-eyed blonde who flirted with every person above 21 who addressed her. Either option was better than going straight to the serious inexpresive Tissaia when she was at the bar, and yet when Stregobor told her to order something to eat for both of them while he was refueling without warning her. So Vanielle walked straight towards her with a nice smile on her lips, for it was her first instinct after a small gay panic fit.

Who could blame her? That woman was beautiful and the brunette thought it was quite a crime that she didn't wear any kind of ring on... Of course, she didn’t think to look at the necklace the woman was wearing around her neck —where a married ring hang next to the pendant—, how could she look at it when, besides it being disrespectful and obvious, her eyes couldn't leave that woman's perfectly defined features? Vanielle was human, lesbian and had excellent taste, so she wouldn't apologize if her preferences were slightly different from the usual ones in anyone else. Moreover, how was it possible that no painter or poet had stopped to describe how a single lock abandoned the woman's perfect bun and fell forward down her cheek carelessly? An ounce of chaos in a sea of control, as beautiful as the woman she was observing. Not to mention the distracted and nostalgic way the woman looked out the window, as if waiting to see someone she knew would never enter the place again. Her eyes were as clear and serene as the sea itself, reflecting the depth and danger of it, but also the emotions hidden and buried beneath the clear surface... And what about her jaw? She would probably have been sculpted into some kind of heavenly stone by someone so skilled that they could never have created any similar work again and for that doomed their career.

When the chestnut-haired woman raised an eyebrow in her direction, Vanielle was sure of two things: the first one was that she had been spellbound staring at her, and the second was that she could fall in love with that woman in less than five minutes. The brunette ended up approaching the bar, speaking and ignoring the gentle way her cheeks dyed red and her heart sped up when blue eyes stuck over hers.

"Good morning..."

"Good morning," Tissaia replied, still with one of her eyebrows raised. Vanielle realized that she had a pen in one of her hands and that the napkin on which she had her other hand resting had several strokes that were beginning to give rise to a drawing, "can I help you with something?"

"The truth is, yes," the brunette smiled, _‘and no, Vanielle, marriage is not what you have to say’_ , she thought to herself before saying, "what do you advise me to eat?"

"It's your first time here, isn't it?" Tissaia's eyes flashed with a glow of amusement. Barely anyone had the audacity to talk to her.

"The truth is, yes it’s the first time I get here, so I have no idea," she acknowledged.

"You can tell," the chestnut lips curved very subtly, but enough to make Vanielle's heart flutter, "it depends on how hungry you are and what you fancy, but I wouldn't trust the cook at all with anything sweet," the innuendo was minimal and subtle, but Tissaia made sure to let it exist; even if not even herself knew why. Well, that woman was obviously beautiful, hot and nice, but plenty of them had been during the last five years.

"Too bad, sweets have always been my weakness," Vanielle let her lips twist slightly.

"It must be that among sweets you understand each other," Tissaia chuckled with such subtlety that the worst suspicions of the brunette were confirmed: four more minutes and she would be doomed. 

Vanielle rested both forearms on the bar and leaned forward, tilting her head to the right and smiling, despite the red color her face should have. Both were unconsciously ignoring everyone's eyes, for even Triss looked at them sideways in disguise, and greatamazement, quite often, since the brunette had approached Tissaia. The owner was wearing tight jeans, that nobody would have the pleasure to appreciate since she didn’t come out from behind the bar and which hugged her legs and bottom in a way that only her high heels could highlight, and a black jumper that, despite hiding most of her curves, fitted her incredibly well and made her look extremely hot to Vanielle’s eyes. The brunette, on the other hand, was wearing a brown jacket suit with a white shirt that had the first two buttons open and a skirt to her knees. She felt sorry not to have dressed better so she could impress a random bar owner she had just met and on whom she was developing a crush.

"Can I at least ask the name of someone so skillful in flattery?" Vanielle trusted to maintain any air of confidence she might had, hoping not to make a fool of herself.

"Only if you tell me yours in return," the chestnut once again raised one of her eyebrows.

"Vanielle Brugge," she reached out to the other woman offering her hand. Tissaia did not hesitate to pick it up and shake it, making the brunette wonder how her hands could be that soft if she was working on a restaurant.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Brugge, I am Tissaia de Vries".

"De Vries? You're much prettier than I've been told," the brunette acknowledged, not realizing it until it was too late. One way or another, she'd only heard of her a couple of times.

"I doubt anyone has emphasized my appearance while telling you about me," Tissaia smiled softly and ironically, remembering then to let go of the other woman's hand. She was very cute, that much was obvious, "one way or another… Depending if you are not in a hurry, I recommend the house special".

"I could wait as long as you needed," it wasn’t true, Stregobor would be furious, but that old awful hag could go to hell if it depended on her, "the company is also more than worth it".

"Mhm, do you think so?" Tissaia's lips began to curve, but her serious expression came back instantly as soon as she heard a drowned cry ringing near her. Turning her head, the woman observed Triss, who was doing her best to do anything but look at them, "Triss?"

"Yes, mom?" Finally, the curly-haired chestnut woman turned in the direction of Tissaia. She should not be more than twenty-five, thirty at top, now that Vanielle was properly watching her, but she found no resemblance between she and Tissaia beyond how incredibly pretty she was for her age.

"Did you want something?" Tissaia raised one of her eyebrows and the brunette stared at her face again. It was inevitable, she was just so beautiful…

"Ah... This... Well, I wondered if I could take my break at the same time as Sabrina..." She said quickly, being the first thing that occurred to her, because there really was nothing she wanted to tell her, but it wasn't like she wanted to acknowledge to any of them that she had been listening to their conversation and looking at them both.

"Alright, but try to get to your room this time," Tissaia winked at her, making the younger woman blush, but then she sighed and then turned her attention to Vanielle, "I hope you'll excuse me, with a cook and waitress less during probably more than twenty minutes, I'm not going to be able to keep you company".

"It's a shame, but I suppose duty calls," the woman smiled kindly, hiding any disappointments she might feel. Would it be too forward to ask her about her phone number?

"Let me invite you to lunch to make it up for that," Tissaia's words caused even the blonde waitress to turn her head violently in her direction to look at her in disbelief, but the chestnut ignored anyone other than the woman in front of her. She was very cute, okay? It wasn’t her fault that words were leaving her mouth before she could check any double meaning on them, when that beautiful chocolate eyes where so distracting.

"I'd love to, but considering I have a co-worker waiting outside, I wouldn't think it fair..." Vanielle bit her lower lip, thoughtful, surprised to see some disappointment in the other woman's eyes too, "but tomorrow I'll have to go back to Gors Velen, so if you're around we could have lunch together..."

"I live here," Tissaia rolled her eyes, but there wasn’t any trace of the bitterness that everyone listening to that conversation —which included the two cooks inside the kitchen— were expecting. Maybe if she could stop looking at Vanielle’s lips she would focus just enough to remember she was still at the bar, "so it’s my duty to accept that proposal," the slightest curvature in the owner's lips indicated that she did not do that out of obligation, which was more than enough for Vanielle. While Tissaia initially meant paying for her food, the woman had just realized that she didn't think it was as bad an idea as she had thought. Even if she said against it, she needed a break, "see you tomorrow then, I'm going to help inside before the orders accumulate".

"See you tomorrow, have a nice day" Vanielle whispered, watching Tissaia walk away until she disappeared behind the kitchen door. She tried not to look at her ass, but she was still human and very much crushed on that woman she had just met.

Triss was still at the bar, but now she was looking straight at Vanielle as if it were the first time she saw her and as if she were a unicorn standing in front of her. The young woman soon approached her, ignoring the blonde coming out of the kitchen and looking significantly in her direction.

"Were you flirting with my mother?"

The sincerity of that question surprised Vanielle so much that her cheeks suddenly turned red.

"I’m not going to threaten you or anything, I’m just curious," she knew that usually people were too scared of Tissaia to flirt with her, so she just wanted to be sure.

"Yes?"

"Oh, cool. I haven't seen her smile or talk to anyone ouf from the fam since mom died, so I just wanted to make sure," Triss smiled so radiantly that the woman felt as if the day had just lit up, "in fact, it’s the first time I see the person flirting with her not running out of Aretuza scared as fiddlesticks… And that I’ve seen her flirting back, so..." The young woman took a napkin and the pen Tissaia had left behind to write something and then offered it to the woman. "Don't tell her I gave it to you".

With a little childish laugh and winking at Vanielle, Triss ran out from behind the bar to take the hand of the young blonde who was waiting for her, to take her away. A sixth sense told the brunette that, had she not been left alone tending to clients, the blonde waitress with green eyes would have approached her to have a few words of dubious kindness to her... Probably without flirting with her because, if she had been flirting with Tissaia, she wouldn't be willing to flirt with her too, but Vanielle didn't give her a chance to say anything, deciding to go out to warn Stregobor that the food would take a while to be ready. She didn't even stop to think which might be the reason why the man refused to approach the restaurant or get out of the car after fueling, but it wasn't as if she really cared what might go through the university’s rector's head. Hopefully they would arrive in time for that afternoon's conference, although it was clear Stregobor would be in such a bad mood that it was hard to know if that was good or not.

When she opened the bag of food, while Stregobor drove to Novigrad, she found that next to the two containers of eel soup, there was a little box with a note. Inside the box there was a little chocolate muffin, still freshly backed that tasted better than anything that Vanielle had ever eaten in her life —and she had just eaten her soup—, so the only reason she offered half to Stregobor was out of manners. But he twisted his face with a disgusted look and refused to eat it, saying that they’d be lucky if the food wasn’t poisoned. Vanielle didn’t show him the note, though, but she kept it safe inside her purse.

_‘It’s not properly done, but I hope it’s enough to soothe that sweet tooth you have’_


	2. Dear Lady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add the (no) date in this chapter, but a friend told me to publish just this and let the (no) date for the next one. So here it goes <3
> 
> All mistakes on my own.

To say Vanielle was nervous was an understanding. Surely she wouldn’t be able to sleep for a second in all night, worried about what clothes she should wear, how to do her make up, what to do with her hair... It was not as if it were the first date the woman had in her life, but, considering that several thoughts about falling in love and marrying her with only a conversation with Tissaia had passed through her mind, it was also not the most normal of situations for her.

The more she thought about it, the stronger the conviction she had that the restaurant had a charm of its own. She was also sure about that charm not being related to the fact that the four women she had seen working in it were probably the most beautiful women she had ever seen —if she didn't consider the two librarians at the university Vanielle worked at, Sheala and Ida, and even two of the cooks in charge of the cafeteria, Francesca and Lytta— the most breathtaking, however, was still being Tissaia. For some reason she was unaware of, Vanielle was strangely attracted to that woman, having seen her only once. It was strange, yes, but the brunette couldn't be more delighted that her face was the only image she could see every time she closed her eyes.

* * *

"So... You and today’s woman...?" Triss was sitting on the couch, curled up against Tissaia and buried under a blanket Sabrina had given her for Christmas.

"Her name is Vanielle, and I don't understand what that question is supposed to mean, love," Tissaia didn't look up from the book she had on her hands until it was ripped from these, "hey! I was reading that!"

"And you'll continue to do so when we are done," the blond-haired, green-eyed waitress put the book aside and sat on the floor in front of Tissaia, emptying her glass of wine, "we want answers, information, gossip".

"I don't know what kind of answers you want, Rita," Tissaia sank into the sofa and closed her eyes, though a small smile was drawn on her face when Triss hugged her tighter and rested her head on her chest. Tissaia was unable to fight the urge to circle her with one arm and hug her back.

"You were flirting with her," the blonde whispered as she refilled her glass with more wine. It had been her best coping mechanism and the only thing that worked to deal with _her_ death; anyway, by that point she had discovered it was better to spend time drunk instead of being sober all time.

"I don't... It wasn’t..." The cheeks of the chestnut burned at that moment, because it was very difficult for her to deny the obvious.

"I can't believe it, Tissaia! I bet on you," with a half-smile, a black-haired woman with two pigtails on the sides of her head and freckles sat behind Margarita, circling her with both arms, "I thought you'd have her tied to your bed by now".

"Philippa Eilhart!" Tissaia's face was completely red, so she buried her face in her hands, wanting to flee from there but she’d hold on with just hiding a little.

"Phil!" With a grimace, Triss hugged her mother tighter and left a kiss on her hair, "first of all, I’d prefer not to know what mom does in her bed with people… And, in second place, I told you they had done nothing but look at each other intensely, like those romantic movie characters that are meant to fall in love and have a happy ending".

"Why are we discussing Tissaia's sex life?" Sabrina walked up to the couch, but decided to sit on the floor, resting her head against Triss's legs.

"This is real world, Triss, happy ending don’t exist".

"Phil don’t mess with Triss. And Sabrina, we're not discussing my sex live!"

"Because you don't deign to have one!" Philippa protested, looking at her harshly, "it’s been five fucking years, you've had plenty of time to get laid with half of the Continent".

"Phil--!" But she did not finish her line, interrupted by Triss' soft voice.

"She's right, mom," the chestnut waited for the woman to look at her, and she sighed heavily, "Mom would have wanted you to move on and sleep with a lot of people, you better than anyone know how she was like... Why do you find it so hard to recognize that this Vanielle looked pretty and that you wanted to do _things_ with her?"

"She was just a woman who was passing through, we'll probably never see her again".

"Oh, dear, you didn't just say that," Rita emptied the contents of her glass again before filling it and swearing when she couldn’t focus just enough, "let me remind you that tomorrow you have a date with her".

"It's not a date!" Tissaia was too red to look like a normal person, so she decided to keep her head buried against Triss hair.

"You definitely accepted a date, Tissaia," Sabrina said, making Triss laugh softly.

"Of course n--" Again, Tissaia was interrupted as she spoke, being surprised when something vibrated in her pocket.

Checking what it was, she discovered that it was her own mobile, but it was strange to receive notifications at one a.m. when all the potential people who might want something were gathered around her or probably sleeping because they had to work. Frowning, Tissaia unlocked the phone and checked the notification she had just received; she was sure Triss should be reading the message —something quite rare in the young woman, so she probably had something to do with it—, but she couldn't care less when the unknown number identified itself. Maybe now Tissaia was much more nervous, but how could she not be if a woman she had met for five minutes wrote to her in the early morning and would probably be thinking about her? Was it to selfish to think Vanielle would be thinking about her? Was she hallucinating? What were the chances? Why couldn’t she focus like a normal person? What the fuck was happening with her brain right now? Why were all of them staring at them? Oh, right, she had forgot to breath… Yes, maybe she should breathe once or twice.

**Unknown** : This... Uh... Good night!

 **Unknown** : I hope I'm not bothering you, but I wanted to thank you for this afternoon's muffin. I know it's a little late, but I couldn't find a good time to do it and I didn’t want you to think I did not appreciate it.

 **Unknown** : And uh... I also wanted to tell you that if you want to cancel tomorrow’s plan, I'd understand.

 **Unknown** : Shit, excuse my manners, I'm Vanielle, we met today. Although I don't know if you'll remember…

 **Unknown** : This must be ridiculous, hopefully you’re sleeping and I’ll be able to delete this before you see it.

With a little smile that Tissaia tried to hide at all costs, she began to type quickly.

**Tissaia** : Dear, I think it’s already too late.

 **Tissaia** : And I remember you perfectly, Vanielle. You're a very hard person to forget.

Triss's drowned cry attracted everyone's attention, though Tissaia didn't even look at her. She was aware that by now everyone knew what she was doing and saying, so there was no point in trying to hide it. Well, it was not like if she was flirting on purpose, she was just being honest with a beautiful woman she met that afternoon and who magically had her phone number… Everything was super normal.

**Tissaia** : I'm glad you liked muffin, although it was not the best I've ever done.

"Did you make her a muffin?" Rita looked at her with her eyes wide open and her jaw almost in the floor due to the surprise.

"Don't you dare," Tissaia warned, knowing her old friend way too much.

"You wanted her to eat your muffin," it was Philippa who said it in the end, and who was thanked by a deadly look.

"You're idiots," the chestnut shook her head, "childish idiots in grownups bodies".

**Tissaia** : As for tomorrow, I find no reason to cancel it, unless you want to cancel it, in that case, we can cancel it without any problem. I mean, you can consider it cancelled if you want to cancel it.

"Stop saying cancel, mom," Triss sighed, exasperated, "for the goddess, you’re worst than a teenager. Now I know what you felt when Sabrina flirted with me".

Triss words made the four women laugh, though Tissaia did listen to her and stopped writing the word cancel over and over again.

**Vanielle** : Oh, good thing.

 **Vanielle** : I mean, I'm glad I can eat you.

 **Vanielle** : EAT WITH YOU*

Rita spat all the wine she was drinking at that moment, chocking with the red liquid and having serious troubles to keep breathing. Everyone but Tissaia was trying to fight a fit of laughter, but none of them was successful. Tissaia was redder than the wine by that time and she couldn’t even type or read how Vanielle apologized for what should have been a mistake of the autocorrect.

**Vanielle** : Fuck.

 **Vanielle** : I am so sorry, it was the damned phone. I swear I didn’t mean that. I would never dare to assume that you… Well, you know, sorry.

 **Vanielle** : That must have looked awful.

 **Tissaia** : I am also glad, it has not looked that bad at all…

 **Tissaia** : By the way, how do you have my number?

 **Vanielle** : I found it over there.

Tissaia then shook her head to look at Triss, raising an eyebrow, only to see how the young woman pretended to be busy looking at her own fingers and the amused smile had disappeared from her lips to be replaced with a guilty pout.

**Tissaia** : Triss's guilty face speaks for itself, you don’t need to try and cover her doings.

 **Vanielle** : I'm really sorry.

 **Tissaia** : For wanting to ‘eat me’, for trying to cover Triss or for talking to me?

 **Vanielle** : Uhm… None of them, actually?

That message made Tissaia smile, much to the surprise of the other four women.

**Tissaia** : Too bad, I trusted a decent apology.

"Did you just hint what you just hinted?" Sabrina leaned forward, trying to look at the screen on her own.

"Enough! You all go to sleep right at this moment!" Tissaia blocked her screen and looked at them all, serious.

"You're a party pooper, Tiss!" Rita rolled her eyes, but she accepted Philippa's help to get up, too clumsy and dizzy due to the amount of wine she had ingested.

"Will you keep us up to date tomorrow?" Sabrina made a small pout that led the woman to roll her eyes.

"Get the out of here right at this moment!" Tissaia kept glaring at them, "and the goddess saves you if I discover any of you trying to pry!"

"Good night, mom," Triss left a loud kiss on her cheek before getting up and take Sabrina's hand, guiding the woman to follow her to the room they shared.

"Good night love," Tissaia shook her head and waited for everyone to leave to look at her phone again. She loved and hated them so much.

**Vanielle** : And what would you understand for a decent apology?

 **Vanielle** : Maybe my ideas don't live up to your standards.

 **Tissaia** : I prefer to leave it to your imagination. Surprise me.

 **Tissaia** : Something tells me that you could manage my standards pretty well, if you wanted to.

Okay, what the hell was she doing? Why was she flirting? Why was she making those kinds of innuendos? Why was she enjoying this little game so much? Yes, her cheeks were red and hot, but she was having a nice time chatting with Vanielle and letting some thoughts like those slip between the lines.

**Vanielle** : In that case, I promise to think something for tomorrow.

 **Vanielle** : Actually a few hours, now that I see what time it is.

 **Tissaia** : Are you going to spend all the remaining night thinking about how to apologize to me tomorrow, Miss Brugge?

 **Vanielle** : I was going to spend the whole night thinking about you anyway, Miss De Vries.

 **Tissaia** : Well, in that case I wish you very sweet dreams, dear 😉

 **Vanielle** : I trust they will be 😏

 **Vanielle** : Good night, Miss De Vries.

 **Tissaia** : Good night, Miss Brugge.

With a stupid smile on her lips, Tissaia blocked her cell phone again and kept it in her pocket, then she got up and stretched. Maybe it would be best if she slept for a couple of hours, if she was lucky enough to manage that much. Anyway, no one was stupid enough to drive in the desert in the early hours without more lighting than the moon and the car headlights, so nobody would come to Aretuza until dawn. At least she could try to keep reading her book if she didn’t manage to sleep, she just needed to know where Rita had hidden it when she took it away from her hands… Which she trusted was not her room, because she didn’t want to walk over her and Philippa fighting or having sex, whatever that night would bring.


	3. Don't crush my heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer, sorry, there were a lot of things I wanted to add and, even if the murdering part is not here, it will be on the next chapter :3

Was it a date? Vanielle really hoped it would be, after the intense conversation she had had with Tissaia the night before, when, apparently, neither of them could sleep. It wasn't that she was nervous at all, but her heart was beating too fast, her hair perfectly combed seemed out of place and oh, she was already arriving to Aretuza, what was she supposed to do now? Vanielle had driven from the city to the restaurant long enough to get there an hour before lunch, hoping she could enjoy some time with Tissaia, to talk without stupid autocorrects in between; even if she would probably make a fool of herself again, what was her fault if Tissaia made her so nervous?

_'Take a deep breath, Vanielle, you can do this. It's just a meal, it's not like you're going to ask her to marry you on the_ _first date… For the gods’ shake, remember precisely not to do that_ ,' the brunette nodded to herself and parked, _'but what if she_ _thinks it's not a date? She's too pretty and witty, she probably has hundreds of talents too, like baking muffins… Oh gods, don’t think about her hands, keep your mind clear and pure… Flowers, think about flowers'._

Vanielle stopped the car, but she did not make a single move to get out of it, immersed in her own thoughts and with her gaze fixed to the front. She had to get down and head to the restaurant, she was aware of it, but for some reason her whole body was petrified, and her mind kept analyzing hundreds of possibilities especially how much could go wrong with a simple lunch. It was the sound of a voice that caught the attention of the brunette, although instead of sounding near the entrance of the bar, the voices came from the back, where probably would live Triss and Tissaia, but the four women to which those voices belonged were neither of them. Wait a moment... Weren't those Francesca, Ida, Lytta and Sheala? Did those women know each other? I mean, it made sense that the two librarians were friends and that the two cooks were friends, but that all four were? And what were they doing in a restaurant in the middle of the desert instead of working in college? It was even stranger when there was only one hour left for the university cafeteria to open, and it would be impossible for them to be back in time. Besides, Vanielle was unable to imagine what those four women were doing there and together, leaving Tissaia's house. The group was too far away for the brunette for her to hear what they were saying, and they would probably realize she was looking at them, so perhaps the smartest thing would be to get out of the car and pretend she hadn't seen them, or just approach them and say hi.

With a nod and a quick sigh, the woman closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, making the final decision. Date or not, it was best if she focused on Tissaia and ignored the presence of the rest, she hadn't driven for almost three hours to sit there all day, right? So nothing in the world would stop her from enjoying a nice lunch with Tissaia, even if it was just a very friendly and not romantic at all meal. With a new nod, Vanielle raised her head, but as she fixed her eyes to the front, she saw absolutely nothing… Well, no one. The group of women was not there, the number of cars was exactly the same as the previous one —they couldn't have left in one of the cars without her seeing or hearing them—, so would have they gone back inside the building? Would have she imagined everything? But why would she imagine that four women she hardly knew were in a bar, in the middle of the dessert, a while before she had a date? It was insane and she was only trying to run away, scared of messing things up.

Without wanting to think too much about her mental state, Vanielle decided to get out of the car at once and head to Aretuza's door. She had finally chosen a pair of black suit trousers that perfectly enhanced her curves, as did the heels, a shirt with a V-neck and buttons, orange and long sleeved, which was loose around her, but still enhanced her body; under it she wore a black lace bra, just in case, because a woman should always be prepared, there were no second intentions at all, she could just have a heart attack and need reanimation when she saw Tissaia.

_'You can do this, just breathe and be yourself. Remember what Calanthe told you, if she doesn't like you being yourself, it's not worth it. She's beautiful, though. And she's definitely worth it. How is it possible that there are such beautiful women hiding in the middle of the desert? Damn, Vanielle, back to what Calanthe told you'._

Vanielle opened the door of the restaurant, surprised to see that there was only half the amount customers that the day before, perhaps because it was still early. Tissaia was nowhere in sight, but the blonde waitress was outside the bar serving some customers, while Triss was in charge of checking some orders and making coffee on the other side. Not knowing very well what to do but trying to hide her nerves as much as possible, Vanielle decided that her best option was to approach the young woman with brown hair and greet her, not wanting to be too rude; that is, she had arrived before lunchtime, so it was no wonder that Tissaia was not there, not if she wasn’t expecting her until one. Triss raised her head in the direction of the brunette before she had even reached the counter, giving her a big smile.

"Vanielle!" Triss leaned forward, excited, "you've come!"

"Good morning, Triss," the woman tried to keep the blush away from her face, but she had no hope of achieving it if the conversation lengthened, "of course I came, why wouldn't I? I mean I had to met your mother... "

"Mom wasn't sure if you'd want to have a date with her, even though we told her you did want to and that she was silly thinking you didn't," she explained, while serving her a cup of coffee, "she's a little clumsy with these things, so I hope she doesn't give you a lot of headaches. Be patient with her, please".

Despite everything Triss had said, Vanielle was only able to retain very specific information, like the young woman being utterly cute.

"A date?" She whispered, making Triss look up and frown.

"Isn't it a date?"

"Of course it is! That is, if she wants to, I... I mean, it isn’t if she doesn’t want it to be," the dark-haired woman devoted all her attention to the sleeves of her shirt, seeking to remove any wrinkles, while her whole face acquired a pink color similar to that of the lipstick she wore.

"Oh, I understand, are you worried about her not liking you, as she is?" Triss rested her elbows on the bar and her head on her hands. She knew her mother was going to kill her, but she needed to ask.

"I-I... Well... The truth..." The brunette looked down, sure that, despite not having given a coherent answer, the young woman would have had more than enough to know that she was, indeed, nervous.

Triss opened her mouth to say something, but it was not her voice what reached Vanielle's ears.

"What have I told you, Triss?" Accompanying the voice, one hand perched on the lower back of Vanielle.

The soft aroma of vanilla and oak that neither the desert sand nor the smell of coffee and food could cover, was enough for the brunette to finish placing Tissaia's voice. At the time, Vanielle was not sure if that thin hand was keeping her tied to the ground or causing her to fall off a cliff, while the red of her cheeks intensified further. Triss drowned out a scream and avoided looking at either of the other two women, while trying to compose an expression of repentance.

"I'm sorry, mom... I’ll just leave you to enjoy your date," the young woman whispered, before running out to change with Rita and run away from the situation.

Tissaia's hand was strained on the woman's back, though the chestnut said nothing at first, unable to find the right words or any words, in general. _'Oh, so that's why Triss said she was clumsy... But she's the most adorable thing in the world,'_ Vanielle thought, turning to look at the other woman, whose cheeks were also slightly blushed. And, oh, they were so close that the teacher could see the different shades of blue dancing in Tissaia's eyes, attracting her attention much more than anything else in the world.

"Good morning, Miss De Vries," the woman managed to articulate, too lost in her eyes to think of anything else beyond being able to contemplate those eyes for the rest of her life. Well, maybe her gaze did stop for a moment on Tissaia's lips, because they were too close and she was tempting her unconsciously; they were so thin and pale that they would look so wonderful once red and swollen... What the hell was happening to her? It was the second time she'd seen that woman, she couldn't be thinking about kissing her when they hadn't even had the first date. She was a lady, she needed to chill down and behave like one.

"Good morning, Miss Brugge," Tissaia replied automatically, managing to maintain her poise even though her eyes could not leave those chocolate brown orbs of the brunette. Her breathing had stopped for a moment, but, fortunately, the other woman did not seem to notice it; she was in trouble if Vanielle was literally breathtaking. Looking at her eyes was like looking at an old wooden log in which every time someone looked, they discovered a new vein, a new tone, a...

Rita cleared her throat, noisily, leaving her tray next to Tissaia and turning around without even taking a look at her friend. Startled by the blow, both women looked away, breaking the eye contact between them, to focus their attention on absolutely anything else. Tissaia wasn't sure if she wanted to kill Rita or herself, because she had allowed a slip as stupid as that to take place, so, the reddish tone of her cheeks became more intense in a matter of seconds. Damn it, she needed to get out of there and she needed to take Vanielle with her. Wait… Did she just… This time, Tissaia was the one who cleared her throat and the first one to look back at the other woman.

"Would you like us to go talk somewhere else? My house is in the back and I'm sure there will be fewer irritating friends around," the chestnut bit the inside of the cheek, suddenly nervous, but disguised it wonderfully.

"Sure," Vanielle looked at her again with a little smile on her lips. The tension that had been generated between the two of them a few seconds ago had almost disappeared and everything had returned to normal, if it had been normal at some time, "although I'm sure the tray thing was an accident… She was probably nervous to see a beautiful woman," the woman winked at the owner, ignoring the fact that Rita probably saw her everyday.

"Oh, honey, I can tell you don't know Rita," Tissaia withdrew her hand still on her brunette's back and stepped back, waiting for Vanielle to follow her out, "but yeah, it’s strange she hasn’tt flirted with you yet".

The brunette hesitated for a moment, but quickly turned around to follow Tissaia home. She wouldn't deny that she was very curious about whether the place would be as she imagined —it wasn't as if she’d been imagining the waitress's house, nope—, so she tried to focus all her senses on the place around them, even if it was sand and parking, as they walked to the house. Another thing Vanielle tried was not to look at Tissaia's ass _because oh,_ _my gods,_ those blue jeans enhanced every last curve of the woman's legs and butt and if someone didn't hold the brunette, she'd probably lose all her decency contemplating the woman walking in front of her. Damn it, Calanthe would probably laugh on her later, when she told her.

Luckily or not, when Tissaia opened the door, she turned to the other woman, discovering that, from the direction she was looking and the way the blush of her cheeks had intensified, it was very likely that she would have been looking at her ass as she walked. She could almost hear Vanielle panicking at being discovered doing so, something that boosted Tissaia’s self-esteem. At that moment —in addition to being able to picture her friends rolling their eyes and her daughter laughing like a little girl— any doubts Tissaia had regarding that date disappeared, causing a soft little smile to draw on her lips.

"Come," Tissaia's smile acquired a certain cheeky nuance that made her words sound very differently.

Vanielle looked her in the eye once before smiling in the same way and did what Tissaia told her to, stopping at the entrance to contemplate the place. At least that would distract her a little from the presence of chestnut and help her keep her own mind under control. What the hell was happening to her? Normally her thoughts were not so brazenly and obscenely altered when she saw a beautiful woman, even when that precious woman flirted with her... Was it some kind of desert spell?

The door directly gave way to the living room of the house, in which there were a couple of sofas around a coffee table and in front of a fireplace; on the table was a book that Vanielle found familiar, but did not stop to analyze for now, before continuing to explore the space. On one side of the living room was an elongated table with several chairs, flanked by a dark wood cabinet of quite old appearance. On the right were some stairs facing the second floor, on the left a door that probably connected to the kitchen of that small house.

"Would you like a drink?" Tissaia tilted her head as she looked at the brunette, "wine? Water? Whiskey?"

"Wine would be perfect..." Turning to look at her again, Vanielle relaxed her posture a little bit.

"Wonderful," the chestnut pointed to the sofa with her head, "get comfortable, I'll be back in less than a minute".

Vanielle nodded and did as she was told, walking to the couch and taking a seat at one end. The brunette left her purse on one side and took off the black jacket she wore, matching her trousers, leaving it on the armrest of the sofa. While waiting for Tissaia to come back, her gaze again perched on the book at the table and that the brunette ended up taking to look over with some curiosity. Seeing the title, and pseudonym under which it was written, her heart skipped a beat, though hearing Tissaia's heels on the ground and approaching in her direction, she did her best to disguise it a little. Vanielle didn't have time to leave the book back on the table, so the woman looked at her with a raised eyebrow, as she took a seat next to her and offered her the glass of wine.

"Are you interested in fantasy novels?" Tissaia looked at the book and then at the brunette's eyes.

"I guess I am," with a nervous smile, Vanielle left the book back at the table and took the glass, turning a little towards her, "are you?"

"Empowered magical medieval women kicking assholes’ asses? It's my favorite genre," she acknowledged, giving a sip to her glass, "especially if it’s anything S.H. Thirteenth has written".

"Really? I didn't have you for that kind of person," Vanielle was so surprised that her words were totally sincere.

"For someone who reads fantasy or for someone who has a crush with a person she hasn't even seen a picture of, just because of the way they write?" She tried to make it sound like a joke, but much to her regret it was a real thing. Tissaia loved how that author wrote, the attention they paid in every detail, in every description, in every process involving the magic that appeared in their books...

"Both?" Vanielle's cheeks were again dyed by an intense red color, so the woman decided to drink a little more wine to hide it. How bad was it to find out more about Tissaia's literary tastes without mentioning the irrelevant fact that she was S.H. Thirteenth?

"Well, in that case, surprise! That’s the kind of woman you’re dealing with, right now," Tissaia tried to joke again, but she took the book carefully and shook her head several times, "have you ever read any of their novels? They are wonderful and highly underrated, and the way they define their characters or explain the laws and mechanisms of magic is incredible, somewhat unperfect, but incredible".

"I've read them all. And, to be honest, I bet she only writes in her free time and doesn't spend all the time she'd like doing it," shrugging her shoulders, the brunette let her gaze stop for several seconds on Tissaia's hands, rather than on the cover. She hadn’t notice her mistake, but luckily Tissaia didn’t either, clearly offended.

"Excuse me? How can you say something like that when a book like this must have so much work behind it?" Tissaia seemed really upset by her companion's words. However, everything Vanielle could do was to let out a gentle laugh and place one of her hands on the one Tissaia had on the cover.

"Don't get me wrong, it's flattering to know that you have a crush with me and to be able to say it's mutual," shrugging and with a nervous smile, she looked at her, "but I meant it, I work as a literature professor at Gors Velen University, so I don't have much time to write". 

"Wait... Wait! Do you mean you're...?" Tissaia's eyes widened more than anyone should regard as humanly possible and all her anger changed into shock.

"Mhm..." Vanielle trusted the woman not to be realizing how her whole face was burning right now, "but I trust you to keep it a secret for me, the last thing I want is my students going crazy because that’s the reason I don’t get their exams corrected on time".

"Of course," the woman said, before frowning, "in that case, I must say that I hate you very much for making Blue feel Cinnamon's death on that hill and to make her unable to go with her and try to save her. Why the hell did you do that? That was cruel! An arrow to the heart? Really? And if that wasn’t enough, two more arrows? What is wrong with you?"

Vanielle tried very hard not to laugh and to answer all of Tissaia’s questions.

"Blue cared too much about her students, so she needed to make sure she gave Vigo one last chance. She was confident she could get her back on track and avoid the war that was brewing all over the Continent," Vanielle stared at her glass of wine, thoughtfully, "many people didn't even realize that Blue and Cinnamon were in love".

"I knew they have a relationship! Especially when Blue touched her arm in the Ball! And then Cinnamon bowed her head towards her!" She was trying her best to stay calm, but it wasn't every day that she met her favorite author.

"They did... Also, at the Conclave meeting before the war, Blue was looking at Cinnamon's hands as they spoke telepathically, but Druid sensed something and that's why he glared at Blue during the vote," Vanielle's smile was much wider now. She hadn’t expected something as random as that conversation coming out, but she wouldn’t complain. It was the first time she could talk to someone who wasn’t her editor about her books.

"I hope that idiot dies at some point, I can't stand him. Why can’t he stop flirting with Blue?"

"Oh, but I can't kill him so soon, or do you think he killed Youn by mistake?"

"Wait! He did it on purpose! That's cruel even to him! The kid was dying!" Tissaia left the book on the table again, hoping that her anger would be reflected in her face.

The conversation between the two of them about the plot of the books Vanielle had written —and continued to write— extended longer than either would have expected, so, at three o'clock in the afternoon, Vanielle offered to give Tissaia a hand to cook something fast, so that they would not have to interrupt their talk nor to starve. To the surprise of the brunette, Tissaia was really a fan of her works and knew every last detail about them, just as she seemed to understand her ideas and plans much better than it seemed possible, suggesting on several occasions something that the brunette had planned to do in her next book —but whose confirmation she would not give yet. On the other hand, Tissaia seemed to understand the workings of magic much better than Vanielle herself, something rather strange, because Vanielle missed many concepts yet —she guessed that was what Tissaia had meant with unperfect but incredible. The fact that it was Tissaia the one explaining to her how the magic in a world she had created on her mind and books worked was… Rather curious.

Having emptied the bottle of wine and opened a new one, virtually any joke made the two women laugh, while they cooked. Vanielle felt as if much of her shyness had disappeared, just as her movements were somewhat more leisurely. However, she would need at least another bottle to get drunk, something she preferred to avoid, if she didn't want to make a fool of herself in front of her crush. Tissaia, on the other hand, had managed to set aside the high walls that surrounded her whole being, allowing that woman she had admired for so long, and known for so little, to let Vanielle know her more. Of course, she could never tell her the whole truth about herself, but why not listen to her girls and get a little carried away? She wouldn’t die if she let it happen once, right?

Thus, Tissaia discovered much more than she would have expected from the other woman. Apparently, Vanielle had always had a great imagination that her parents had tried to bury and correct over time, so her only way of expressing herself had been writing the images on her mind; however, not being able to rely on books to live, her parents forced her to study a career, so the woman decided on literature and then stayed teaching at Gors Velen University. Not even her parents know Vanielle was S.H.T., so besides her editor, Keira, Tissaia was the only person who had information about the author’s real identity. None of the brunette's relationships had been long enough or remarkable enough to be mentioned, so her life was really relegated to teaching and writing.

On the other hand, Vanielle discovered that Tissaia had inherited that business from her mother when she died years ago, that she had been in charge of the restaurant with Rita —the blonde waitress, with whom she had had a brief relationship in her teens— until Philippa and Sabrina were hired. In addition, Triss was the foster daughter of chestnut, for she and her wife had met her when the youngest was two years old and have not been able to separate from her ever since. A wife who, by the sad and painful way Tissaia spoke of her, had died five years ago. Vanielle was unable to ask her what happened, but she did place a hand on her arm and gently stroked it, trying to cheer the woman up a little. Tissaia then placed her hand on that of the brunette, caressing it and giving a gentle squeeze, before placing her fingers on the skin inside the wrist, causing a chill to the dark-haired woman. Oh, things were getting curiouser and curiouser.

"I'm really sorry about your wife," Vanielle whispered, still staring at the point where the chestnut fingers touched her wrist.

"It’s alright, she passed a few years ago… It just hurts when I think about her," Tissaia left a new caress on the teacher's skin, causing the breath to get trapped in the brunette's lungs.

As innocent and careful as the gesture was, Vanielle again felt her cheeks begin to burn and the previous tension quickly rebuilt between the two of them. They were too close to each other and neither had noticed until the moment that, when she raised her head, Vanielle found the chestnut staring at her, her nose practically rubbing hers. When had they come so close? The brown eyes fixed again on the blue orbs. The aroma of vanilla and oak was intoxicating for the brunette; while Tissaia was beginning to find it difficult to resist the temptation to see if Vanielle's lips would taste like wine or preserve the slight aroma of biscuits and lilies that characterized her. Their breaths intermingled and Tissaia's hand abandoned the woman's wrist to slowly ascend caressing her arm, until she reached the back of her neck. Vanielle leaned forward and her nose grazed Tissaia's, her heart beating so fast that it seemed to threaten to get out of her chest, but there was nothing she could do to force herself to step aside or back down.

_'Life is based on decisions, sometimes you make the right one, sometimes you don't, but what's worse than not making a decision?'_

That was one of Tissaia's favorite parts of the monologue of one of the characters in Vanielle's third book and one with which she fully agreed, so what better time to check whether if a decision was right or not, than to take it in front of her? Using that little excuse, Tissaia was the one who ended up closing the distance between her face and that of the other woman, joining their lips in a soft, chaste kiss. With the chestnut lips pressed against her own, Vanielle took her two hands to Tissaia's shoulders, feeling her legs threatening to give in and stop holding her weight; then, she kissed Tissaia back without thinking it twice. Aretuza's owner bowed her head slightly back to rest her forehead on that of the brunette, her eyes closed; both of their breaths were heavy despite the innocence of the kiss, but Vanielle could not take her eyes off the other woman's face, as she moved one of her hands from her shoulder to her neck, caressing her skin with her fingernails. Tissaia tasted exactly as if she had drunk some kind of vanilla tea, instead of half a bottle of wine; it was curious, but she wasn’t going to complain when it was one of Vanielle’s favorites.

"I think it's the first time I've kissed a woman on the first date," Tissaia whispered.

"In that case, I should make it be a memorable first time," Vanielle whispered, sinking her fingers into the chestnut strands, and causing several locks to escape the woman's tight bun, ripping a groan from her throat. The brunette did not wait another moment before rejoining her lips with Tissaia's.

Anything they had been cooking was just forgotten by both women. Tissaia did not hesitate to correspond to the kiss, making it very different from the first. Delicacy and uncertainty disappeared sooner than expected, to give rise to urgency and hunger, raising the temperature of the room in a matter of seconds —nothing related to the burning food—, and leading both women to find the best way to press against each other as much as possible. Tissaia lowered her two hands to the brunette's hips and began to move forward, until she caused the other woman's body to get trapped between the countertop and her own. Vanielle opened her lips as she felt the woman's tongue slowly review them, asking her permission before entering her mouth and finding no resistance or attempted dominance on her part. Besides thanking the new support, Vanielle wrapped her arm, whose hand was not tangled in brown hair, around Tissaia's neck, thus facilitating the decision the owner of Aretuza took —deciding to lower her hands to Vanielle's ass to rise her and put her on the countertop—, before moving to end up between her legs, the chestnut’s hands resting on her thighs. Probably, were it not for the high heels she wore, Tissaia would find it impossible to reach her lips, but at the same time, the brunette leaned forward, not wanting to let the restaurant owner go, under any circumstances. How the situation had escalated in such a short time and gone from a friendly conversation to an intense kiss that threatened not to be left in just that, was something beyond the understanding of the two women. And it was also something neither of them would have stopped to think about until a gentle blow near them made them startle and separate their lips. Their chests rose and dropped rapidly, their lips were red and swollen, their pupils had longer taken away any of color in their eyes, Tissaia's bun was a complete disaster and the shirt had escaped From Vanielle's trousers and had the first of the buttons open, as did Tissaia’s. How long had they really spent kissing? The sound that had startled them, however, had been made by the door of one of the cupboards closing not as delicately as intended for the woman located in front of it.

With her back to them and frozen, there was a black-haired woman with two pigtails that Vanielle identified as Philippa, according to Tissaia’s description of the cook. Philippa had stood still holding a box of cereal, confident that, if she looked like one more piece of furniture, no one would notice her presence in the kitchen. But… Wait, it wasn’t as if either of the other two women could complain, it was almost six o'clock in the afternoon and she was hungry; besides, she was tired of waiting for them to stop to breathe for a moment. If they had spent —and it wasn't as if she'd timed it— twenty minutes kissing, they couldn't blame Philippa for interrupting them. Plus, it was Tissaia who never let them have sex in the kitchen! It wasn't fair that she could do what she didn't allow others, okay?

It was hard to tell who was most shocked, whether Vanielle or Tissaia, so Philippa let out a snort and took a more normal position, turning to look at them with a half-smile.

"I'm tired of waiting for you to finish having sex on the kitchen and I wanted cereal," the young woman extended the box in the direction of the two women, "hungry?"

"Philippa Eilhart for…" Tissaia didn’t finish her sentence, as Vanielle placed a hand on her shoulder and left a small caress with her thumb over the small expansion of skin that had been left in sight with the movement of her shirt, which was also open, even if neither of them was sure when that had happened either.

"The truth is, yes, I am," Vanielle smiled politely, and stared Philippa in the eye, making a chill run down Tissaia’s spine.

Amused, the young woman took a couple of steps towards her and let her take a few cereals, before walking out in silence. Philippa only stopped as she reached the door to turn her head and look at Vanielle.

"I like you, don't let that witch scare you," Philippa winked at the two women, but when Tissaia glared at her with narrowed eyes, she laughed and left, leaving them behind.

The silence flooded the kitchen as soon as Philippa left, so Tissaia and Vanielle used that moment to finish regaining their breath and to process the situation. The brunette was so accustomed to dealing with her most brazen students that she had automatically reacted to Philippa's teasing, ignoring whether she had disturbed or made Tissaia feel uncomfortable in any way. However, when the chestnut voice reached her ears, her body relaxed remarkably.

"I've never seen anyone handle Phil that way," Tissaia took a deep breath and then threw her head forward, resting her forehead against the teacher's shoulder.

"When you described her, she seemed much worse than she is," Vanielle used her free hand to caress the woman's hair, enjoying the softness of the strands, "although I think we burned the food at some point, do you want half the cereals?"

"Please," turning her head enough to look at her, Tissaia laughed.

Laughing too, Vanielle began to pick up some of the cereals and bring them close to the other woman's lips. If Tissaia's lips or tongue occasionally grazed the brunette's fingers, that was completely accidental and the wine's fault, just as the only reason Vanielle had both legs firmly wrapped around the woman's hips, was just to maintain balance and not fall off the countertop... However, both managed to contain themselves enough not to fall back into the temptation to kiss a third time. At least until they run out of cereal and excuses.

"I should leave before it's too late," Vanielle sighed heavily, too comfortable with the other woman between her legs.

"I guess there's no way I can convince you to stay without it looking like it's an excuse to have you in my bed," raising both eyebrows, the waitress bit the inside of her cheek to avoid laughing again. Yes, she was serious, but the way Vanielle had just narrow her eyes, while weighing her chances, was too adorable and distracting.

"I have class in the morning, but... I guess I could come back another day, if you want".

"I'd love to," reinforcing her words, Tissaia leaned forward and left a gentle kiss on the corner of her lip.

"Perfect then," Vanielle took her by the cheeks and kissed her again, unable to resist the temptation. Part of her feared that at any time, Tissaia would change her mind and ask her not to come back, so she would take whatever opportunity she had to make sure she could remember the woman's lips for the rest of her life; something that wasn’t going to be too difficult, because she feel like she could write an entire character only with what she knew about Tissaia until now.

"I'll walk you to your car," Tissaia suggested, between one kiss and the next, because she was aware that there was someone nearby and this time it wasn't Philippa.

Vanielle nodded and kissed the woman one last time, before releasing her so she could back off and let her get down of the countertop. It wasn't until she was standing next to Tissaia again, and noticed the low sensitivity of her legs, that Vanielle began to seriously consider how much time they would have spent in that kitchen. While returning to the living room to retrieve her jacket and purse, Vanielle took the opportunity to take a quick look at her phone and check the time. It was seven-thirty in the afternoon —she wouldn’t bother to try and make sense of how quickly time flight with Tissaia’s company—, which would probably mean she would come home at about ten or eleven at night... But it wasn't as if Vanielle could complain, too happy about the outcome of that very rare date as to even double check that the food had ended up being a handful of cereals at six in the afternoon, or that anything tasted much better on Tissaia's lips, or that perhaps the button on her own shirt should be fastened again... Or just be left like that.

Tissaia accompanied the woman to the place where she had parked her car and smiled when she stopped half-opening the door, to turn around and say goodbye one last time. Who could blame the chestnut if she took that moment to pin the woman against the car and kiss her goodbye, trusting that it would be reason enough to bring her back? Of course, the amber eyes nailed to Aretuza's owner's back did not help too much, so, she tried to ignore them while she withdrew and watched Vanielle go. The woman waited until Vanielle's car disappeared into the darkness of the road heading to Gors Velen to turn in the direction of the restaurant, bowing her head a little to fix her gaze in the yellow eyes of the owl perched on the roof of the restaurant. She raised a single eyebrow, daring it to say something or complain.

In the absence of an answer, Tissaia walked back home, aware that she had to pick up the glasses, bottles and traces of burnt food that the turn of events had left behind. She had expected to be two or three hours away from the restaurant, not the whole day, but she had to give Vanielle all the credit for being an incredible distraction. However, when the woman closed the door behind her and headed for the kitchen, she let out an annoyed sigh and turned to one side of the room, looking fiercely into the empty space.

"You know very well what I think of you using magic at home," Tissaia didn't stop looking at the wall until, out of nowhere, a woman with golden hair and blue eyes began to emerge.

"I didn't want to disturb you while you were busy with your human friend, or to startle her," the woman shrugged and accompanied Tissaia to the kitchen, "her face looks familiar".

"She's not human. And she works at Gors Velen University, Francesca, you're supposed to know her," Tissaia shook her head and took both glasses, "I want you to keep an eye on her, but be discreet until we know more about her".

"Is she a threat?"

"Do you think I'm going around kissing potential threats?"

"Isn't that what happened to Vilge--" Francesca didn't finish pronouncing that name when she heard the two crystal glasses burst into a thousand pieces on Tissaia’s hands, "--fortz?"

The blonde said nothing else, looking down when she realized it was more than obvious that she had screwed everything up. Tissaia wasn't ready to talk about what happened five years ago, perhaps because of guilt, maybe because of the pain... That didn't matter, because it wouldn't be Francesca who put pressure on her friend. Instead, she moved a hand to make the glass fragments disappear and took Tissaia's hands —now full of small cuts— to examine and heal even the smaller of them.


	4. With Pains and Sorrows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update because my essays are overrated <3

_"Burn the witch!" One of the hooded men shouted, while two others male, with hidden faces dragged a body to the pyre of wood ready to burn the pale woman to ashes._

_The woman's hair was dark, and it was stuck to her skin because of blood and sweat. Her entire face was covered by wounds of different gravity, while her body did not attempt to resist at all while being transported to the pyre. Her face reflected fear, regret and horror, even if she knew which her destiny would be._

_"The Chapter of the Gift and the Art has judged you and found you guilty of witchcraft, lesbomancy and confabulation with the devil," a fourth man left the shadows, his face was discovered, just as his white hair and beard were in sight. The man, almost bald, had light eyes and sharp nose, as well as the mark of reading glasses on both sides of it; his white hair still had some greyish and reddish strands, while his beard was carefully trimmed. In his hand he wore a braided wooden staff that, on top, had a bright white sphere, "burn the witch! Let this day make the other whores forget the face of the witch but remember the pain."_

_The witch looked up, her eyes shone, filled with tears, and they were fixed to the shinning stars, she knew no help would come this time. It was better if the girl just stayed out of that, she didn’t want to hurt them more than she had._

* * *

_'Don’t let them do anything stupid... Tissaia, my life, I love you. Promise me you'll live.'_

"Please, don’t…" When Tissaia opened her eyes, she had to blink several times to get rid of the water that had accumulated in them, her throat was sore, so instead of shouting, she just whispered the last words, "… leave me".

Her jaw hurt quite a bit, probably because she had been squeezing it tightly while dreaming, just as her hands were numb and pale because she had been grabbing the sheets up to that very moment. The room was a disaster and there were some shattered objects, so, as soon as she was able to react, Tissaia began to repair them with magic, carefully to avoid making more noise than she had already made, despite the rune stones placed by the door —which reduced it but didn’t turn her room soundproof. Trying to sleep was as useless and stupid, as it always was, so the best thing she could do was go get the last book she'd been reading; even if it was more like a re-reading. Since she had stopped sleeping years ago, she was finding herself running out of books.

Tissaia came out of bed and headed to the living room, relaxing when she felt no magic around her, nor heard anyone talking. It seemed that she had not woken up any of the girls, so she had been luckier than she expected. The chestnut lit a small lamp and dropped on the sofa, extending a hand to retrieve S.H.’s... No, Vanielle's book. Drying her cheeks again, because the words keep sounding on her mind over and over again, Tissaia opened the book right by the page she had marked, though she frowned when, instead of the carefully placed sheet of paper that used to do the page-marking function, she found a dried flower —and, of course, it wasn’t any flower— gently pressed between the pages of the book. Tissaia's hands trembled when she held the rose between her fine fingers, new tears spilling from her eyes to the pages of the book. Why was it there? Why had it to be there? And it wasn’t even _any_ page… The fucking Rose of fucking Remembrance was placed on the page when a character talked about choices in a monologue —her favorite, nevertheless—, so… It could only meant one thing.

* * *

"She's already in the living room," Philippa whispered, opening her eyes to look at Rita.

The blonde nodded and took her mobile phone, starting a group videocall instantly.

"Margarita, it's four o'clock in the morning and we're trying to sleep," Francesca let out a long snort, but when the light in her room was turned on, Ida came out from behind her. When the redhead placed a hand on her shoulder, Francesca’s voice softened, "what do you want?"

"Keep your voice down, Tissaia is in the living room, but that woman has a tenth sense," Rita whispered.

Sabrina, who was resting her head on Triss's shoulder, frowned.

"She’s tried to sleep again, hasn’t she?"

"So that’s why the explosions and uncontrolled magic… I thought it was some of the younger girls," Sheala wasn't even looking at Lytta's cell phone, placed so that they both appeared on the screen, for she was staring at the ceiling.

Rita nodded only once, before pinching the bridge of her nose.

"She hasn't slept for too many years," Philippa took a deep breath, pretending she didn't care at all, "not even an awful bitter old hag like her can live like this for more than half a century".

"And what do you propose? Please, don’t say homicide or cup," Ida tried to soften the conversation a little bit, as they were all aware that if even Philippa was showing a minimum of verbal concern, something must be going worse than usual.

"Getting her drunk doesn't work either," Rita sighed dramatically, "maybe drugs?"

"What kind of ex are you?" Sheala facepalmed unconsciously.

"She won't let me sleep with her either," that was the first time Triss spoke. She was too silent that night, "every time I've tried, she's kicked me out, but I know she only does it because she's afraid to hurt me if her magic gets out of control".

"Maybe we could get her a heaven-sent Teddy bear who is not dating me?" Sabrina, tried, worried for her girlfriend’s welfare.

"What if we use the human?" Lytta bit her inside her cheek, thoughtful, "I mean, maybe thinking of someone else would help her forget what is haunting her," none of them would speak of the subject if they could pretend it just didn’t exist.

"There's something about that human that doesn’t feel right," Francesca crossed her arms, after passing Ida the cell phone, "besides, Tissaia told me she wasn't..."

"Fuck, Spider-man’s coming!" Philippa whispered, before taking Rita's cell phone to hang up, toss it aside and kiss her fiercely, before the blonde had time to say or think anything else.

After a few seconds, Rita pulled Philippa away and looked at her with a frown.

"Philippa, they're going to hear us again!" Rita laughed, without even trying to lower her voice. She knew what her girlfriend was playing without reading her mind.

"They're all sleeping… Plus, one free show? Who would refuse?"

_'I would, though I don't know if that will prevent anything too loud to happen,'_ Tissaia didn't stop in front of her door, but kept walking past it.

_'Too bad, though our bedroom door will always be open to you,'_ Rita left a kiss on the brunette's cheek, letting her turn off the light.

_‘And not only the door…’_ Philippa bit back a laugh when she could almost hear Tissaia rolling her eyes.

They both knew that they had been very close to get caught and that the few seconds Tissaia would have spent stopping, pinching the bridge of her nose and rolling her eyes would have been enough for the others to have time to turn off lights and go back to —pretend to— sleep. Very few people on the house would have been sleeping with the explosions and the uncontrolled magic grounded to Tissaia’s room thanks to some spells.

The building behind the cafeteria might seem small, old and battered, even once inside, for the first floor supported that idea, but once the stairs facing the first floor were accessed. Well, you could say it was bigger on the inside. The stone corridors were decorated with paintings—and some drawings Triss had made as a little kid—in addition to some furniture. On either side of the aisle there were several doors, which communicated with large and spacious rooms that had everything any of the women needed, as well as their own bathrooms. In addition, the hallway turned right and left, resulting in two secondary corridors, both of them finished in a large window with a small stone ledge, on which any bird could rest comfortably —though right now the windows were closed to prevent the cold of the desert from entering—, but those two aisles also connected to two other rooms. The first of the halls was a large library with nine floors and countless books, scrolls and handwritten pieces of wood and ceramic, dating back centuries for many of them had been miraculously saved from burning libraries throughout history. The second room was Tissaia's office, whose door used to be open when the woman was inside, so that anyone else could go looking for her if they needed anything. That's where Tissaia spent all the time she was not tending the cafeteria or trying to mediate at a meeting convened by any of the twenty women who lived in that house.

The chestnut was now heading to her office, yes, but this time she closed the door behind her, making sure to turn the key before walking to her wooden desk and placing Vanielle's book on the surface. When Tissaia opened it, the red rose was still innocently perched on one of its pages. It didn’t move or react, as the curtains began to burn and the woman did her best to keep her heart in one piece.


	5. But come here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still here, hi, thanks for keep reading and I hope you all enjoy the story, even if it's getting darker and darker <3
> 
> TW: Some machist comments at some point in the middle, and there are mentions to blood and death at the end.

She didn't like Vanielle.

Besides, in her defense, Tissaia had told her to keep an eye on her, so that was not like she was doing something that was totally against the Lodge code or Tissaia’s, right? She'd just make sure that _non-human_ woman didn't turn out to be the one to put the last nail in the chestnut’s coffin. If Vanielle proved to be a relatively good person, Francesca was willing to give her a chance, but if not... Well, she'd have to manage so she wouldn't ever step on Aretuza again, would Philippa be willing to rip some eyes off?

Francesca Findabair was not the kind of person who tolerated aggression to people she cared about. Many might call her a traitor and a sly witch, but everything she did was done for her people, something she did not intend to change under any circumstances. In the case of the Lodge, those women had become her people since Tissaia opened the doors of Aretuza to her and Ida, after all what happened during the last centuries, so nothing could stop her from doing anything to protect the woman, or any of the residents in the shelter. Witches had been chased to their almost extinction and very few were chosen by the chaos to be conduits, so their only chance was to stick together and there was nobody better than Tissaia in doing so, they had tried and failed before.

It had been a week since Vanielle had been in Aretuza and three days since they had made a group phone call to discuss what they were doing with Tissaia... And Francesca had yet to do anything but watch the teacher from the shadows or from the counter while serving food to students in the cafeteria. The blonde was sure Lytta might notice something strange about her, but the redhead was sufficiently aware of the kind of things that could go through her co-worker's mind not to ask her about it. After all, it wouldn't be the first time Lytta had to stop her friend from doing something stupid, like poisoning someone she considered dangerous to the Lodge, even if she regretted that last one.

_'It's going to look like you stalk her, if you keep looking at her all the time,_ ' the redhead served the next plate with a big smile, without giving a single look to the other woman.

_'It's the first time she's been on the cafeteria all week, I’m just watching her,'_ something that was usually complicated, as Vanielle only left her house and office to teach; she barely had friends, her co-workers paid no particular attention to her —even though they seemed to love her, just like the students— and despite her lonely life, there was absolutely nothing remarkable about her. Vanielle was too normal to not be human, as Tissaia had said.

_'And do you think that's reason enough to stalk her?'_ Lytta held an exasperated sigh, _'she’s coming to get her food, pretend a little, will you?'_

Francesca rolled her eyes at her friend's comment, thanking the gods for the coincidence that one of the teachers had tried to ask for her phone number. That man was not the first, nor would he be the last, to do so, so the blonde simply accompanied that gesture of a growl, thus getting the man to surrender, take his tray and leave. Why did everyone ignore the ring she had had to ask Ida to give her? Even if they had been together for decades, until they had started working at that stupid university, Francesca had not needed any kind of object that showed her commitment to someone else, and yet all human men seemed to ignore the stupid amber ring and tried to flirt with her anyway.

"Good afternoon," Vanielle smiled as she stopped in front of Francesca, approaching her tray to let her serve her one of the dishes.

"Good afternoon, professor..." Francesca frowned, implying that she had no idea what her last name was, despite reading it in her file and the plaque on her office door.

"Brugge, Vanielle Brugge," the brunette accompanied the words of a gentle laugh and offered her free hand to the blonde, "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to introduce myself earlier, Miss Findabair".

Francesca reached out to shake the woman's hand, while serving her food. The way Vanielle had just said her last name became so strange that she was not even able to execute her plan, so she let go of the woman's hand and struggled to pretend that she liked both that woman and that place. From the first time she had focused all her attention on Vanielle, Francesca had noticed something she did not like, but was unable to put her finger on exactly what the reason for it was. Maybe it had something to do with what Tissaia had said that she wasn't human —which shouldn’t be, because she liked everything that wasn’t human or male—, which reminded the blonde that...

Looking towards Vanielle, who was now walking to one of the teacher’s table, the cook sned her eyes and concentrated her magic, causing a student to stumble for no apparent reason. The student was loaded with a tray of food —soup in a bowl and macaroni with tomato sauce on a plate— so when she stumbled she flipped that tray over Vanielle, covering the front of her clothes with all the food. The brunette didn't have time to react or step aside, but she didn't hesitate before dropping her own tray to try to hold the young lady and keep her from ending up falling to the ground.

While Francesca's lips had drawn a mocking smile upon seeing the spectacle that had been triggered, Lytta's elbow to her ribs was more than enough for the expression on her face to become sore.

_'Was it necessary for you to do that?'_

_'I just want to see what she's like when she gets angry,'_ the blonde snorted, returning her attention to the scene.

_'Well, it's not your lucky day, then… But Tiss is going to be furious,'_ a little smile appeared on Lytta's lips when she saw that Vanielle was helping the young woman sit in one of the nearest seats _, 'now, go and offer her help cleaning up. It was your fault, so you have to fix it.'_

Francesca could only frown more and more when she saw how the teacher asked the student if she was well, if she had hurt herself or if she needed to be escorted to the infirmary. The woman seemed totally indifferent to what had happened and the student had begun to cry, feeling quite bad about throwing her food at her... What was wrong with that weird woman? Any normal person would have been upset about being covered in macaroni, tomato and soup. Feeling the world getting a little bigger around her, Francesca skipped, whined and, without looking at her friend, surrounded the cafeteria counter to go talk to the teacher. However, before the blonde could reach Vanielle, Stregobor caught up with her partner and the student, with furious expression, causing Francesca to stop dry. She could almost see how the man grabbed Vanielle’s arm and made her stood up.

"What the fuck happened?" Stregobor's disgusted expression did not go unnoticed by anyone, although Vanielle deliberately ignored it.

"Annika has stumbled," Vanielle's voice was kind and there was a warm little smile on her lips, jeopardizing Stregobor reaction, "I was just checking that she hadn't hurt herself".

Straightening her back, the woman looked into the rector's eyes, daring him to say something about it. The man, sometimes too stupid, looked up and down at the woman, before releasing a sarcastic laugh.

"Perhaps you should worry first about her appearance, woman," the corner of his lips twisted as he watched Vanielle's eyes cloud and her jaw tightening," I'm sure offering such a pitiful image won't help you to renew your contract".

Vanielle wanted to respond, she wanted to tell the man what she thought, but her migraine had decided to make an appearance at the time Stregobor had looked her in the eye —it almost seemed to be provoked on purpose by him, if not because that was impossible— so the woman really didn't have the strength to articulate any of the words she was thinking. A warm hand perched on the teacher's shoulder, causing her to turn her head and meet a pair of blue eyes, a light tone like that of the clear sky at noon. Vanielle's body relaxed when she found herself accompanied by someone who seemed to share her displeasure for Stregobor and who also seemed willing to help her in some way.

"Rector, if you will excuse us, I have some clothes in the warehouse for situations like this... Of course, if you would rather spend your time harassing women whose clothes are more transparent than they should due to an accident, you should just tell us all about it. I am sure the disciplinary committee would be delighted to know such information has gone public, after your last public demand was dismissed when Renfri sudden disappearance".

Vanielle let out a little whining, against her own will, when the pain she felt in her head increased exponentially, to the point of making everything around her begin to blur and spin.

"You're wrong, mrs... Whatever your name is," Stregobor stuck his eyes on Francesca, who didn't even blink, but raised a single eyebrow instead —Tissaia’s ways had stuck on her, after all—, while she looked him straight on his eyes —not that she had any straightness on her, but she tried—, "but if you’re so eager to waste your work time talking, I guess you can always get make it up later," with a quick look, the man let his eyes leave the blonde's face to descend to her breasts, stopping at them for a couple of seconds, before continuing her journey. Finally, the man turned around and walked away, to reach to the table where some of his companions awaited him —a man with olive skin, moustache and black hair, another whose skin was darker, but his hair was closer to a mahogany color, and another man with koel skin, bald and with a bored expression—, where he took a seat.

Francesca could notice the unconscious way Vanielle shrunken, so she moved her hand from her shoulder to her arm and began pulling her to the warehouse, saying nothing. The brunette didn't resist, and Francesca wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. What if she was trying to kidnap her? What if she wanted to murder her on the storage room? She didn’t know her and Vanielle was willing to let herself be carried by her… With a snort, the blonde continued to think about how stupid and confident Tissaia's potential girlfriend was —she was not willing to let her friend date a woman who was likely to get killed, she had lost the love of her life once and Francesca was sure she couldn’t deal to lost someone twice—, but she helped the brunette sit in one of the empty boxes in the warehouse.

Vanielle took both her hands to her head, confirming Francesca's suspicions with it. However, the blonde merely walked to a box, in which she made appear one of Tissaia’s sweaters and jeans, which seemed Vanielle’s size, more or less. The blonde caught the clothes and approached the other woman, offering them so she could change. Vanielle did not move, choosing to close her eyes instead, as the migraine seemed to have attacked her with all its might, that time, probably accentuated by the presence of the fuc--no, she didn’t insult people, Stregobor.

"Do you want me to bring you a glass of water and a pill?" Francesca offered, trying to seem concerned about the right reasons.

"Don't worry, it's just migraine," the woman whispered. However, seconds later, a glass was being pressed against her lips, insistently, so Vanielle had little choice but to drink its contents.

"I don't know how you're alive," Francesca rolled her eyes, just by thinking about the large amount of poisons that could be mixed with liquids it was a huge mistery.

"I'm used to pain," the brunette struggled to sketch out a little smile, "but thank you for everything, you didn’t have to bother".

"It's nothing, what kind of woman would I be if I didn't help one of my people?" Francesca's smile towards her was very difficult to see, but for the first time, it was sincere. Even if Vanielle didn’t know then, that words meant much more that she could imagine.

* * *

Vanielle stopped when her knees bent, and her body rushed forward refusing to keep going for it was too depleted to move one more muscle. If that was her destiny, to die in the middle of a desert, covered in someone else's blood, the woman was willing to accept it without complaint. After what had happened, what else could she do? She deserved that punishment, she had failed Tissaia, failed the girls, killed a person… And none of that could be fixed, not with a smile, not with kind words, not even with magic.

Vanielle could not forget the black flanges surrounding their wrists, the fear and pain reflected in Tissaia's eyes, Triss's body motionless on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood... Glassy, empty eyes, lifeless, staring at her.


	6. If ever before

After what had happened that day in college, Francesca urgently needed to talk to Tissaia and do something about it. Vanielle's thought her headache was the product of a migraine and not a fucking assassination attempt by a traitor, which was worrying at least and their biggest problem at much. If she was honest, Francesca had not been able to check whether the teacher was human or not, she had no proof of it, but she did know that, if Stregobor went after her, Tissaia was probably right and Vanielle wasn't just a regular woman —of course it wasn't as if Tissaia was ever wrong. Moreover, the woman was in danger and, even if Francesca was still not sure that she was not a threat to them, she was unwilling to leave her at the mercy of The Brotherhood of Witch Hunters.

With that in mind, there was something that didn't end up fitting in, from the blonde's point of view. If Stregobor wanted to kill Vanielle and it wasn’t the first try —supposing the woman had been honest in saying her migraines were common—, why was she still alive? Francesca definitely needed to tell Tissaia everything that had happened that day, before things got out of her control and problems started to arise, as was always the case. That day it was Ida's turn to open the portal to return to Aretuza, so the four women gathered at the back of the library, away from the sight of anyone and sheltered by the growing darkness. Fortunately, by then they had all learned to use the magical currents present on the Continent to hide their chaos and camouflage it in the flow of magic, so the times when they made a mistake that could give them away were very rare. Aretuza had become a blind spot from The Brotherhood, for it was located at the center of a sea of uncontrolled chaos —moved by the sand and desert winds—, so it was the perfect place to locate a shelter to teach younger witches or where to allow yourself to lose control from time to time —although Tissaia didn't like any of them doing magic at home, anyway, too worried about getting The Brotherhood's attention again— as well as one of the continent's most powerful points in case they needed a little of extra help to defend themselves.

Ida was the last to cross the portal and closed it behind her, so by the time Francesca and she put their feet in the living room of the house, the light was already on... Meaning that the four women were apparently not alone, Keira stopped, passing by them, and gave them a quick look before blinking with confusion. The blonde-haired woman wore a smoldering cup and was heading for the stairs, but the sudden appearance of the group seemed much more interesting to her. No, it wasn't interest, it seemed... Worry? What was she doing there, anyway?

"Phil's on the roof, Fringilla, Sabrina and Rita have stayed at the bar, there wasn’t a lot of people today, which was lucky. Triss is with Tissaia," while she was talking about the rest, the blonde's eyes didn't leave the cup. "Tissaia has migraine again, almost fainted at the bar," Keira bit the inside of her cheek.

"Sure, but what are you doing here?" Sheala raised an eyebrow, curious.

"Give them a hand, Triss called me," Keira shrugged, "your work doesn't just allow you to disappear, but I can go in and out whenever I want".

"And Tissaia? How is she?" Lytta approached Keira to give her a quick hug, despite the concern of her voice.

"She was asleep the last time I checked, but Triss asked me to prepare an infusion for when she woke up".

"In that case, it's best if we don't make any noise," Lytta nodded with a little smile, and then she took Sheala's hand, "we'll see each other at dinner… Don’t kill each other, please".

The rest of the women nodded, not wanting to make more noise than strictly necessary, and waited until the two women had disappeared upstairs to speak again.

"Was it just migraine or something else?" With one hand resting on Francesca's lower back, Ida stuck her eyes on Keira's face, who sighed and shrugged.

"I don't know. According to Triss, Tissaia hasn't said a word in all morning, not even to wish her a good morning".

"Last night she tried to sleep," the redhead twisted her lips with concern.

"Lack of sleep makes migraines worse, but it's not supposed to affect her that much with the potions and spells she uses," Francesca frowned and shook her head.

"Whatever it is, guessing without her telling us never works, we’re losing time there... Besides, I wouldn't be surprised if after forty years she was developing some resistance to wide-awake potions".

"If that were the problem, I'm sure she would have convinced Triss to increase her dose by now," the blonde murmured.

* * *

"You shouldn't answer it, you need to rest, Mom," Triss was sitting on the side of the bed with her legs crossed and a book closed on her own lap.

Ignoring the young woman's words, Tissaia slid her thumb over the phone screen to pick up the call and closed her eyes, covering them with the back of her hand then. Part of her was confident that, despite the darkness, Triss would not see the little soft smile that had been drawn on her lips when she heard Vanielle's soft voice on the other side of the line, but since she had been reading with the light off, something told her that she had used a potion to get temporal vision in the dark.

"Yes, love?"

Triss's eyes widened with surprise, even though Tissaia could not see them. The young woman was close to jumping in joy, for from the first moment it was clear that there was chemistry between the two women and certain someones had forgotten to tell her about some kissing in some kitchen, which meant she knew nothing... But Tissaia had migraine and was supposed to rest, not worsen her condition. However, as much as Triss glared at her, that wouldn't make any change if her mother couldn't see her.

"I hope I don't interrupt you doing something or in a bad time," Vanielle said, kind of insecure.

"Any time is good if it's for you," whispered Tissaia, relieved that Vanielle's voice would not cause any more pangs of pain in her head. It was strange, but hearing the other woman's voice seemed to have rather the same effect as a healing balm.

"As much as I'd love to, I don't think I'm going to be able to talk to you for a long time," the brunette said, "I have migraines and today the pain is being especially intense".

"That already makes two of us," Tissaia smiled a little more, "but if you felt bad, you shouldn't have called me, you need to take care of yourself, love".

"I didn't want you to think I'd forgotten about you. And I missed your beautiful voice," a small shy smile painted Vanielle’s lips on the other side of the call, "but if your head hurts too, I'd better hang up and call you again tomorrow".

"No!" Tissaia's exclamation startled even Triss, but in defense of the older woman, since she had listened to Vanielle on the other side of the line, the pain seemed to have temporarily paused and she felt better enough as to just speak loudly enough.

"But Tissaia..." Vanielle smiled a little more, she adored that woman, even if she hadn’t known her for too long, "how about I buy you a coffee tomorrow to make up for it? Caffeine helps with headache".

"Alright... Do you want us to meet in the university?"

Triss violently turned her head in the direction of Tissaia, horrified at the sole mention of such an idea. Was Tissaia really considering leaving Aretuza when she was suffering from migraines to go on a coffee date with Vanielle? Was she crazy? Besides, getting out of there, knowing that witch hunters were lurking was stupidly dangerous; they had seen Tissaia's face —also those of Triss, Sabrina, Rita, and Philippa— so going straight to one of the places they had confirmed as a meeting point for The Brotherhood was almost suicidal. Tissaia, however, sounded totally relaxed and sure of her words. Was Triss exaggerating? The young woman was more than aware of her adoptive mother's abilities, how powerful she was, the amount of emotions and chaos she had bottled and what that meant.

"I leave work at lunchtime, but if you wanted, we could put that coffee together with..."

"Count on it," Tissaia said, before Vanielle finished talking, making the brunette laugh. That sound could cure any disease, no doubt.

_'Tissaia, we need to talk,'_ Francesca's voice in her mind caused the chestnut to suppress a sigh.

"See you tomorrow, then, good night, Tissaia".

_'Can't you wait till tomorrow, Fran?'_

"Good night, Vanielle, see you tomorrow," instead of hanging up, the chestnut waited for the other woman to do it, but the idea seemed to be mutual, so, after half a minute, they both laughed, "we're not going to do this, are we?"

"Of course not, you're going to be the one to hang up," the teacher curved her lips in a half smile.

"No way, you hang up".

Triss turned her eyes blank as she heard her mother say that. Was that really happening? She may had liked the feeling that seeing them together gave her, but she didn't want to see them act like two teenagers… Not that she had anything against teenagers, but Tissaia acting like one wasn’t part of her plan.

"I refuse to do so until you hang up," Vanielle bit her inside her cheek.

"Well, enough," Triss shook her head and picked up Tissaia's phone, taking it to her own ear, "I hope to see you around soon, Vanielle, mom says you're very pretty and she's looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, bye," smiling at the woman's alarmed expression, Triss pressed the red button that ended the call. However, the young woman had no time to say anything else before the door of the room opened, allowing the dim light of the hallway to leak in and break the darkness, "Francesca, what...?"

"Triss, you've done a lot for me today, why don't you go to sleep, dear?" Tissaia dedicated a little smile to her daughter, who alternated her gaze between the two, really insecure about what to do about it. However, even dressed only in a green silk nightgown, the golden hair collected in an irregular and improvised bun, that made the woman's pointed ears noticeable, and bare feet, Francesca was one of Aretuza's most imposing people at the time.

With a sigh, Triss ended up getting up from bed and, giving Tissaia one last look, she moved to the door, carefully dodging Francesca when she got out of the room. The blonde closed the door behind her and approached the bed, though she did not sit on it, simply observing the woman's movements in the dark. With a sigh, Tissaia leaned in, gently pinching the bridge of her nose, before striving to curve her lips into a small smile.

"What's so important, Fran?" The woman whispered, looking straight in the direction of her friend and gently patting the bed next to her.

"It’s about what you asked me to do," Francesca sat where she was told, and began to fidget with her own fingers, "Stregobor tried to kill your hu… Vanielle in the middle of the cafeteria this afternoon".

In that instant three things happened simultaneously. The first was a complete and instant hardening of Tissaia's face; the second was an almost palpable ascent in the level of chaos and energy of the room, it was enough to make the elf uncomfortable; and the third was something that was only noticeable thanks to the darkness of the room and Francesca's trained eyes to recognize that kind of signs, one lightning bolt crossed each of Tissaia's eyes, making them shine in the dark and illuminating her face with an aura of danger.

Francesca didn't move a single muscle, afraid of becoming the person who stuck a stick in the side of an angry lioness, no, she knew her best bet was to give Tissaia time to calm down and control her chaos, before doing something too stupid. Neither of them would ever repeat the mistakes of the past, they had had enough a hard time learning from them to take that stupid risk. It was at least five minutes before Tissaia sighed slowly and joined both hands on her own lap, straightening her back and correcting her posture.

"Would you mind telling me the details?"

Francesca nodded, though after thinking about it for a moment, she added, "wouldn't you rather see it?"

Yes, maybe showing her directly what had happened would be best, she just needed to avoid the part where it showed too obviously that she was to blame for Vanielle and the student's accident. Tissaia nodded as the only answer, so Francesca took both her hands to the woman’s cheeks, gently cupping them; she knew that she should not look into her mind under any circumstances —the last time any of them had tried, the perpetrator had spent almost a week immersed in a spiral of emotions and negative thoughts that threatened to sink her; they were all highly concerned about Tissaia ever since, as they were unable to understand how she could be elegant and composed when she felt so... Empty as Fringilla had described it—, that was why Francesca simply poured the memory of what happened into the woman's head, letting her assess the situation for herself and tell her what to do next.


End file.
